At least we're not dead
by Alice Crow
Summary: Some how dying and being reincarnated isn't the strangest thing to happen to him. No, it's the people that come along for the ride and the mafia in general that take the cake.
1. Chapter 1

Being reborn was an experience. He still wasn't sure if it was a good one but it certainly was an experience. He hadn't known that something was wrong until months after he was born. By then the memories slowly started to filter back in. He remembered a life where he wanted nothing more then to be a hero. He remembered the pure joy he felt when finally someone acknowledged him and his dream. Had told him that he could do it, when all his life he had heard the exact opposite. Remembered how the name deku, something that had only brought misery, slowly became a name that pushed him forward. Forward to his dreams, forward to his ambitions, forward to his _family_. Because that's what they were. Family in away that his mother could never hope to be.

At times he felt disgusted with himself, after all his mother had simply tried her best with what she had. It wasn't her fault that she was (realistically) uncertain of his dream. But what he needed from her wasn't pity or a sorry that she didn't need to give him. It was a simple phrase, a simple you can do it. One word, just one word of encouragement would have been enough. Instead he had only ever gotten a disappointed sigh and a tired, careless "maybe you should be a police officer," he knew she loved him. Of course he did, he would be a fool not to. But when push came to shove what he needed from her wasn't spectisem, it was a belief in his abilities that she had never had.

"Open up my little Izu-chan it's time for the choo choo train to reach the station" there in all her glory stood his mother. She looked young and unburdened in a way she hadn't since his childhood. Was he the reason she had become the way she had? Was it his fault? He suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

Knowing something was wrong, she gently picked him up and started to sway. She shushed him and gave him softly spoken comforting words. He eventually tired himself and fell into the darkness known as sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

It's been four years and he can admit, if only to himself, that _maybe_ running away with someone he was only vaguely sure was Kacchan wasn't one of his smartest ideas. See it sort of went down like this. His mother had taken him to a park because it was socially expected of her to make sure that her child did not become a shut in, antisocial, plague on humanity. Now being the good samaritan that she was she decided that this was a wonderful idea that needed to be followed.

This had lead to him being alone, surrounded by loud children, in the middle of summer. Now some might think that Izuku would love children, seeing as his former occupation choice was to be a hero. And while that may have been true, the difference between now and then was that in his former life he had at least been taller than the little shits. It was at that moment that Izuku looked up into the sky and accepted death.

Or at least that was what he had been trying to do before someone threw a goddamn stone at him. This of course was met with minor disbelief. That minor disbelief soon turned into major disbelief. What the fuck? Did a literal child just throw a _stone_ at him? He turned to see who the little demon spawn that apparently liked to bludgeon people in the head with stones in their free time was. All he needed to see was blond hair and red eyes before the meaning of true fear once again was presented to him. All they needed to to now was put a freakin bow on it.

"Oi deku, dont fuckin' ignore me you nerd. I know that's you. No one else is that fucking over dramatic," ok, first of all _rude_. Second of all Kacchan sure knows how to hit you where it hurts doesn't he? And finally third of all, ohmyfuckinggodhe'snotalone!

Ok so maybe he should have lead with the excitement about not being the only one to make it to this strange world, but you know what? This is his mind and he gets to decide the order of importance.

"Kacchan? Is that really you?" if looks could kill Izuku would be dead, then brought back to life, only to be killed again.

"No, it's your fucking fairy godmother, who fucking else would it be?" the sarcasm is not appreciated nor wanted. He also knows on good authority that it could be a demon spawn that was sent to fuck with him. In fact that theory was looking more and more possible. It would make sense, he thinks look at the blond with narrowed eyes. Actually maybe Kacchan had always been a demon and it was only now that his true nature was being shown.

It would make sense, after all a person couldn't possibly be that dark and twisted without a reason. It would also make sense for why he was so attractive. It could be his demon genes showing themselves in case he needed to seduce someone in order to convince them to sell their soul.

*smack*

"Ow, Kacchan, why did you do that?" Izuku whines. Katsuki looks at him like he has never seen someone so stupid and idiotic. Which is rude.

"I don't have time for your moronic mumbling. Look we don't have a lot of time before our parents take us home. Do you remember how we died?" Katsuki asks. Izuku looks at him for a moment before letting his serious side take over. While joking and not taking anything too serious wasn't the best coping mechanism, it was better than nonstop panic. Not that he didn't still panic, it was just hidden underneath a shit ton of sarcasm.

What Kacchan was asking of him was something that Izuku knew was going to reopen a lot of festering wounds. Still, this was something that seemed highly serious. So he put on his game face before remembering the day that ruined absolutely everything he had worked so hard for. The day he that had killed his dream, had killed him, and most importantly, had killed his classmates and friends. He, Iida, and Uraraka had been planning to go out and spend time together like normal friends should. He remembers seeing Todoroki and deciding to invite him along. Not out of pity for his tragic backstory, but because he thought that maybe Todoroki could become his friend now that the sports festival was over. To him it had seemed that they had become closer.

So he had asked him if he wanted to come along. To his relief and excitement Todoroki had said yes. This had of course meant that it had been a total surprise to Uraraka and Iida when they had shown up together. The two had quickly adapted and welcomed the socially awkward teen with open arms. They had ended up going to a cat cafe because Uraraka had learned that none of the other three had ever gone before.

As they had all sat down together and slowly grown used to each other in a way that they had not before, loud familiar curses and laughter had brought their attention to the front of the store. Izuku will never know how but Kirishima had managed to convince Kacchan into going into a _cat cafe_. Kirishima had seen them and started coming towards them, pulling a very reluctant Kacchan with him.

They pulled up two chairs and sat with them. At first this arrangement had been awkward, but with the the combined powers of Kirishima, Izuku, and Uraraka they had managed to make sure that it didn't stay that way for long.

The next time the door was opened Izuku was the only one paying attention. There standing in all his coffee inhaling glory, stood Shinso. He only needed to take one look at the group before deciding that leaving would be best for his remaining sanity. Unfortunately for him, Izuku was not letting him leave that fast.

He had stood up from his chair at the table, jumped over the table, and then tackled Shinso to the fucking ground. The pure horror and misery on Shinso face could not have been faked even if he had wanted it to be.

At that point he had dragged Shinso to their table, forced him into a chair, sat across from him, and had told him that they were now friends whether the other liked it or not. As things slowly went back to normal, the group could not help but gape at him for a solid minute.

Then of course like most things in life, it all went to shit. It was around the time that that they were ready to go home that they heard a loud bang. As they rushed outside they noticed that the one fighting what they assumed to be a villain, was Aizawa sensei. It was around that time that Izuku's vision started to blur. In the end all he remembers is horrible, horrible pain. And then, the sweet release of death.

As he comes back from the memory he looks back at Kacchan, wondering if there was a purpose for what he had to relive.

"Yes and no, I remember what had happened on the day we died but I don't remember _exactly_ how we died, anyway why did you want to know?" Izuku says shrugging. His eyes though are sharp and cold in a way that they hadn't ever been in his first life.

"Think deku, if we died on the same day and came back then there's a possibility that we aren't the only ones that are here" Kacchan looks hopeful in a way that Izuku has never seen before. He wonders briefly weather the idea had any merit. After all it might have just been them that died. Or maybe they hadn't been reincarnated, or maybe they had been but in a different world. In the end the possibilities were limitless.

But looking at Kacchan's hopeful eyes made him want it to be true, even if it was selfish. But wasn't it ok to be selfish for once in his life?

"Alright, say that they have been reincarnated with us, what are we gonna do about it?" Izuku asks, genuinely curious on the answer. For once in the entire conversation Kacchan looks nervous, like he doesn't know for sure how his idea might go over

"We can run away" Kachan's answer is softly spoken. Izuku takes a moment to simply look at him before he starts laughing hysterically. Kachan turns red and hits Izuku on the head. Thankfully since he's only four it doesn't hurt as much as the ones he used to dish out when he was a teen.

"_Ow_, I was going to say ok but if you want to be like that you can forget about it" Izuku says pouting. Kachan looks shocked for a second before a grin overtakes his face.

"Stupid deku, should have just said that instead of laughing like an idiot" Izuku simply smiles, happy that his childhood friend wasn't nervous anymore. Not only that but he was nicer to. Maybe the years alone have been just as hard for him as they were for Izuku.


	3. Chapter 3

"So, who are you?" asks a pregnant women. She's dangerous, his instincts whisper. She's a liar, they murmur, she's a traitor, they scream.

His name is Skull de Mort. His name is Skull de Mort. He has never gone by the name Aizawa Shota. He is half Russen, half French. He is not Japanese. He has purple hair and purple eyes, he does not have black eyes and hair. And perhaps most importantly, he is the world's greatest stuntman, _he is not a hero_.

The mantra repeats over and over again in his mind. It's something that he has to keep telling himself in order to stay in character. Something that he needs now more than ever in a room full of killers.

He can practically _taste_ the gunpowder in the air, can _feel_ the tension, can _hear_ the blood pumping, and can _see_ the stilled hands and suspicious glances.

It's nothing new, something that he has gone through almost a thousand times in his previous career. After all, being an underground hero meant that he spent a rather large amount of his time in deep infiltration.

His name is Skull de Mort. His name is Skull de Mort. He has never gone by the name Aizawa Shota. He is half Russen, half French. He is not Japanese. He has purple hair and purple eyes, he does not have black eyes and hair. And perhaps most importantly, he is the world's greatest stuntman, _he is not a hero_.

It takes him a moment to collect himself. He closes his eyes and takes a breath, not a deep one that could give away his nerves. After all, Skull de Mort is an idiot that wouldn't recognise danger if it punched him in the face.

His name is Skull de Mort. His name is Skull de Mort. He has never gone by the name Aizawa Shota. He is half Russen, half French. He is not Japanese. He has purple hair and purple eyes, he does not have black eyes and hair. And perhaps most importantly, he is the world's greatest stuntman, _he is not a hero_.

He suddenly opens his eyes and the mantra fades into the background. Still there, but not something that will distract him. He takes off his helmet (he thanks his past self for the forethought) and grins. He subtly directs his body to stand in a certain way that will make them subconsciously think him weak. He opens his mouth, taking less than a moment to decide what to say, and says in the most obnoxious voice he can muster.

"My name is the great Skull de Mort, I am the greatest stuntman in the world. You may call me Skull-sama"


	4. Chapter 4

He's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die. God dammit, he fucking knew he shouldn't have followed Kacchan. But did he listen to the small self-preservation skills he had? No, no he did not. Because he's an idiot. An idiot that is going to die he might add.

"If we end up dying my ghost will haunt your ghost," Izuku says, hoping his voice will stop fucking trembling. Something he had noticed was that in this world, quirks were something that didn't exist. He wonders if he would have thrived in this world had he been born in it first. He probably wouldn't have had to deal with as much bullying.

But anyway, that was beside the point. The point was that he was a four-year-old living on the streets with another four years without any form of protection. This, of course, had lead to the predicament in front of him.

"Come on little boys, I don't bite. I just want to talk to you" his voice is full of fake sugary sweetness. It leaves a bitter taste in Izuku's mouth. He wonders what would happen if stuffed sugar down his throat until he puked. Would his voice still retain its former properties? Hmm, an experiment for another day.

"Get the hell away from us you fucking pedo" growls Kacchan. Ahh, truly there is no better bliss then watching someone else have to deal with the bullshit that you have dealt with for years. And in this case, the bastard on the other side of the death glare and growl actually deserves it! Ahhh, truly life is blissful.

"Aww, don't be like that. I swear I'm just trying to help. 'Sides what type of adult would I be if I let a couple of 5-year-olds run around unwatched. It's a dark world out there, wouldn't want you to...get hurt" that pause was suspicious as fuck and screw anyone who said otherwise. Thankfully Kacchan seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

"Well if you were a well-meaning adult then you should also know that it's suspicious as fuck to go up to kids and tell them to follow you," you tell em Kacchan! Izuku thinks to himself.

"Alright listen up you little shit's, I tried to be nice but you bastards have forced my hand. Hope you don't mind a few bruises" the man says smirking. Well, at least his voice isn't annoying anymore.

The man pulls out a crowbar that he had been somehow been hiding. Izuku looks at Katsuki wondering if he was the only one who didn't see the crowbar. Thankfully for his sanity, Kacchan looks just as confused as he Izuku. Izuku wonders if now would be the time to run. He looks at Kacchan but sees nothing but confidence. He doesn't know is that makes him relieved or more afraid.

"Stay away from us you useless turnip" Izuku shouts. Both Kacchan and the man turn to look at him. Kacchan's face speaks of pure regret, while the man just looks confused. Ha, fuck you both, at least he managed to buy some time. Time that they were not using to get away. What the shit Katsuki?

"What the fuck?" the man asks, understandably confused. Same bro, same. Maybe it was time to reveal his supper secret finishing move for situations like these.

"PERVERT!" ah, the body of a child made everything better, Izuku thought as no less than five mothers burst into the ally way looking ready to beat the shit out of the offender. Izuku pointed at the man, making sure that his face seemed terrified and traumatized. Two of the women brought out some high-grade pepper spray, one of them brandished their bag like a bludgeon, one took out a pocket knife, and the last one held out a gun. God, he loved moms. They were the best.

After the amazing one-sided beatdown, one of the moms bent down in front of him and Kacchan to check for injured. It was the one who had a gun. She brushed her hand against his. Suddenly her eyes widened and she gaped.

"Sky..." was what she whispered. It almost looked like she wanted to bundle him up in bubble wrap and hide him in her closet. Thankfully Kacchan seemed to see what was going on. He took his hand and pushed him behind him. He growled at the lady before running full speed away, unfortunately since his hand was still in Kacchan's he was dragged along as well. By the time they finally slowed down Izuku was close to dying to due to the lack of oxygen in his system. Who knew being reborn would shoot his stamina dead.


	5. Chapter 5 (Shota)

DO NOT IGNORE THIS MESSAGE PLEASE

THIS CHAPTER HAS RAPE, PEDOPHILIA, AND PANIC ATTACKS. PLEASE DON'T READ IF THIS IN ANYWAY SHAPE OR FORM TRIGGERS YOU. STAY SAFE MY PRETTIES.

When he first woke up in the strange new world that replaced his own, he was in his mother's arms. A mother that he had not seen in many years due to her death when he was six. So imagine his surprise when he looks up into the face that had all but faded into blurry imprints.

His mother looked different. Not in a way that would make him unable to recognize her, he didn't think he'd ever be unable to recognize her. Her facial structure more European, her black hair more curly, her once smooth Japanese was accented. In fact, she barely spoke Japanese. Her name was different and her ethnicity was apparently different as well.

The biggest surprise though was when he took a look at the mirror. Purple locks flowed down to his shoulders. His once black eyes widened in surprise. He cursed himself for not thinking of looking at a mirror until he was three. He knew of course that things would be different. One would only have to take a look at his mother to know that, but he didn't think that things would change this drastically. That was, of course, an oversight on his part.

"Oh, my little Cherep is so handsome. Just like your father." sings his mother. He would have missed it if he hadn't spent years learning how to pick up on even the slightest twitches, but his mother's voice is mocking and her gaze is suffocating.

He doesn't know what to do. He can't confront her because despite her hidden hate he loves her. He can't talk to her because who would have a serious conversation with a three-year-old. And he can't fix it, because he doesn't know what to fix!

It's all an endless cycle of thoughts that continue to rush into his head, never giving him a moment of peace. His eyes that had been so full of life when he had learned of this second chance, dulled at the dilemma in front of him. He didn't know what to do and as he did in his past life, he shoved it in the back of his head and focused on the things he could fix.

One thing he could fix was the money problem that his mom and he seemed to have found themselves in. The problem was that what he would have to do was something that required a drive to survive and a determination to live. Something that he did in his past life in order to make sure that his missions were a success. Of course, he was much older back then.

There was a reason he was the best in his field as an underground hero, and while his quirk had certainly helped, it was his ability to stay in character in even the most stressful situations that had allowed him to keep his title.

aAaAaAa aAaAaAa aAaAaAa aAaAaAa aAaAaAa aAaAaAa aAaAaAa aAaAaAa aAaAaAa aAaAaAa aAaAaAa aAaAaAa

"Are you sure about this? You'll never get to back out if you do this," asks a worried voice.

"While the concern is touching, it is unnecessary. After all, I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't know the consequences." says a young boy about the age of five. His walk is graceful and his clothes are revealing and colorful. He wears makeup that sharpens his angles and makes his already beautiful eyes pop. His purple hair is messy and short.

He walks beside a man that has a gun in his pocket and is wearing a black suit. The man looks worried and guilty.

The boy's name is Cherep and his mission is to kill his target. Nothing he hasn't done before.

This, of course, means that he needs a way to get close enough to his target to kill him. Thankfully after a thorough investigation, he was able to find out that his target had some rather alarming skeletons in his closet. Skeletons that would make this kill all the more enjoyable.

"Thank you, Amaury but I can take it from here," Cherep says smiling sweetly as they reach the end of the hallway. Amaury shudders and practically sprints away.

Cherep had found Amaury around two years ago dying in a ditch. Cherep, being the good civilian that he was, had nursed the man back to health. This had somehow lead to the man swearing his loyalty to him. Cherep, never one to let an advantage go, had accepted.

This meant that Cherep now had someone to act as a sort of manager to him. Someone that would find him jobs and talk to the clients for him. This had allowed him to make more money then he would have should he have done it alone. After all, it was less likely for someone to scam an adult than a child.

Amaury also found him targets that deserved to die. It was a way to please his conscious and pay homage to his past as a hero.

Cherep took a moment to straighten out his clothes and wipe off imaginary dust. He opened the door and almost fell into an immediate rage.

How dare he! How dare he taint a child in such a way! Cherep was aware that the man was a pedophilia. That was the entire reason that he had decided to go after him. But Cherep had managed to keep an emotional distance from the case in order to not act irrationally. But having it shoved in his face? There was no way he could let this go now. That man was dead.

The reason for Cherep's rage was a small child being brutally penetrated. Her screams for help and mercy were ignored, her sobs disregarded, and her skin marred with bruises. Tears flowed down her cheeks and her mumbled mantra of no only seemed to spur the man on.

Cherep, no Shota, was disgusted. His beautiful face consorted to show an ugly sneer. He took out the knife he had hidden in his boot and wasted no time in walking up behind the man.

The girl opened her eyes for a split second. Her gaze found his, and for a brief moment, she froze. She took in his clothing, the knife in his eyes, and then looked back into the eyes that had not once left her face. His eyes held a righteous rage that burned all that touched it. Yet as she looked into the eyes of what many would consider a monster, she couldn't help but feel an overabundance of hope for the first time in years.

Cherep spent no time in slitting the throat of the trash before him. He pushed the body off the young girl beneath it and quickly looked away before finding a jacket in the corner of the room. He walked over to it, picked it up and then walked back to the girl still sitting quietly on the bed. He draped the jacket over the girl, startling her out of her thoughts. She looked up at him before grabbing at the jacket and tightening it around her.

"Will you take my soul now?" was the whispered question of the girl. Cherep blinked for a moment before tilting his head to the side.

"What makes you think I want your soul?" was the curious reply. There was no fear in the face of the young girl, only acceptance of what she believed to come.

"You can't be an angel because I've prayed for years and nothing's changed. Besides, I doubt an angel would kill someone. That means that your a demon, and demons want souls in return for granting our wishes" she explains calmly. Cherep raises his eyebrows but smiles gently in amusement.

"I am neither angel nor demon. But if you wish for it to be, I will your demon. I will protect you and care for you if you come with me. If you don't then I will drop you off at a police station and you can forget about ever meeting me. They will probably be able to take better care of you then I ever will." it was stupid to even offerl, he knew, but he had always had a soft spot for children.

The girl was quiet for a moment before she opened her mouth. Her hands tightened on the jacket before loosening a bit.

"Take me with you and I promise that for as long as I live my soul will be yours" her hands started to shake and tears started to fall down her cheeks. Her hand started to grab onto her long indigo hair. She started to pull at her hair, viciously ripping it out. Her entire body starts to quiver.

"Hey, hey, it's ok. Come on, take a deep breath. Now count with me, one, two, three..." slowly her breathing starts to even out. Her hand eases from her hair. She opens her hands and watches as strands of her hair fall out. They sit together in silence for a few minutes before Cherep stands up. He looks at the girl in front of him that he knows he can't let go of. Not now, not when she needs him.

He tilts his head towards the door before he starts to walk to it. He reaches the door before pausing to raise his eyebrows at the girl that simply stands in the room that caused her to lose her innocence.

"Are you coming or not?" he asks casually, knowing better than to make a big deal about it. The girl looks at him before a determined gleam enters her eyes. She walks out the door that had held her in her hell. Her knees tremble but she refuses to acknowledge it. Refuses to ever be weak ever again.

Her father had sold her for money, sold her so he could buy drugs. So she would always make sure to have the one thing her father never had, money. After all, everyone knows that money is power. And she would _never_ be weak again.

"So, what's your name and how old are you?" Cherep asks hoping to keep the girl from delving too deeply into her own thoughts.

"I'm nine years old and you may call me... Viper" the name of an animal that scared her father more than anything else, a name that she hoped would scare off the enemies of her and the demon beside her.


	6. Chapter 6

A sewer. He was literally living in a sewer. Izuku was starting to regret his choices more and more.

"Stop being a pussy, I can hear you complaining from here," Kacchan says distractedly. Izuku really needed to work on his mumbling problem. Thankfully no one else but Kacchan could fully understand what he was saying. Unfortunately, Kacchan was the one that could understand him.

"Please do tell me why we need to go through piss and shit to go to your 'super secret hideaway'" Izuku's nose was currently on its deathbed, it sat alone with only its lawyer as the disease (smell) slowly killed it. 'Tell my children I love them' his nose croaks. The lawyer nods. 'Who shall get the house?' his nose pauses for a moment 'it will go to my youngest. Also, make sure that my wife doesn't get anything. Karen's a bitch'

"What the actual fuck is wrong with you?" Kacchan asks, stopping to turn around and fully look at him.

Ok, first of all, rude. Second of all, nothing. He was the most normal normal to normal. Third of all… shit, where was he going with this? Did he start out with a point? Probably not.

"Shut up," Izuku said in lack of an actual comeback hoping Kacchan wouldn't notice. Kacchan's smirk says otherwise.

"Can you at least explain where we're going and how long it will take us to get there?" Izuku asks, desperation leaking into his voice. Katsuki sighs, slows down, and again turns around to look at the nerd. He looks tired Katsuki notices distantly.

"There's an abandoned train station connected through a small tunnel around here, I highly doubt anyone is there since there wasn't any last time," Kacchan says shrugging.

"And the only way in is through the sewers?" Izuku asks in bewilderment. Kacchan looks away in embarrassment.

"It's the only one that I could find" Izuku supposes that that makes sense. Just as he's about to nod his head in agreement to the absolutely flawless logic presented to him, a thought comes to him. It is presented to him by angels in skimpy outfits, (both men and women, Izuku ain't no sexist pig (Izuku is also very, very bi)) wrapped in a sparkly bow, and mentally shoved into his mind like how a dick was sometimes shoved into your partner's throat when both of you just wanted some rough face fucking, consensual only. Not that Izuku would have any experience with that, haha...

"Wait a hot minute, why were you in the sewers in the first place?" Izuku questions. Kacchan looked at Izuku like he was an idiot, which wasn't all that different from how he usually looked at him.

"I was looking for a dungeon so that I could torch- I mean to hold my prisoners in," he says this like it was completely normal and not at all insane. Izuku wonders what part of that entire sentence could even be considered non ridicules. Izuku now understands the skimpy angels had been trying to warn him. They were trying to save his soul from the demon before him. The theory he had had before was now proven.

"Demon" Izuku hisses. Kacchan rolls his eyes. Suddenly Katsuki looks at a small hole in the wall. They had been walking along skinny little pathways that kept them slightly above the waste. Katsuki then makes a motion that on one hand could have been after you but on the other hand, it also could have been a weird demon dance that was supposed to seduce the innocent to the dark side.

"Your joking right?" Izuku really hopes that the hand motion Kacchan made had been a weird demon dance and not a signal to get up close and personal to the literal crap of other people in order to go through a small hole that Izuku was now mentally renaming gateway to hell. 'Seems appropriate' Izuku thinks to himself 'seeing as a demon and his innocent prisoner were going to live in what was on the other side'.

"Innocent my ass" Kacchan mumbles.

"Look, just get into the fucking hole," Katsuki says, giving up all hope that Izuku could ever be normal. Because clearly, he was the sane one.

Izuku looked up, put his hands together and prayed to the skimpy angels to give him strength. He then got down onto his hands and knees and started to crawl.

When he reached the other side he gets up and looks around. Izuku didn't really know what he had expected to be perfectly honest but what was in front of him turned out to be pretty anticlimactic. From what he could see it looked like a typical abandoned train station. The type that horror movies took place in. Izuku sighed in disappointment 'it's not much, but he guessed it was home now.'


	7. Chapter 7

That night Izuku sat on a pile of newspapers and felt like crying. Fucking shit, he's cold, tired, hungry, and lonely. He stood up and started to walk around in hopes of distracting himself. Kacchan was laying down a few steps away from him fast asleep. Izuku looks at him for a moment debating the pros and cons of drawing on his face.

Pros- it'll be fucking hilarious

Cons- he'll probably die

Seems like a fair trade-off Izuku thinks to himself. As he crouches down in front of the prone body Izuku reaches for his marker. Katsuki's hand shoots out and grabs Izuku's ankle. Izuku freezes.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit" Izuku repeats the word like its a prayer. His voice full of hope, desperation, and an ever encompassing need to live.

'I can't die like this, there's still so much I have to do. Like draw on Kacchan's face or piss off the side of a building in hopes that someone will get hit,' it takes Izuku an embarrassingly long time before he realizes that Katsuki is still asleep.

"Oh thank the skimpy angels, if I wasn't a devout worshiper five minutes ago I am now," Izuku shifts a little in an attempt to get Kacchan to let go of his ankle, unfortunately, this backfires and Kacchan instead tightens his grip. He then mumbled something that sounds suspiciously like 'get your own pony Mr. Fuckwod' Izuku then tries to shake his ankle, this is a mistake.

"I SAID GET YOUR OWN PONY!" Kacchan then pulls on Izuku's ankle hard enough to make Izuku fall.

"Ow! Fuck, fuck ow!" Izuku wraps his hands around his head in a sorry attempt to ease the pain. It doesn't work. Izuku then proceeds to whimper pathetically.

"Shut the fuck up Karen," Katsuki says before his other hand clutches his leg. Kacchan then starts to drag Izuku towards himself in what is surely a sign of super strength. Izuku tries desperately to crawl away. He fails.

"Kacchan, Kacchan wake up!" Izuku's read enough fanfiction to know that if he allows Kacchan to drag him to himself they'll cuddle and Izuku would rather stare god in the face while masturbating then cuddle with the demon spawn that was inhabiting the body of an adorable little boy. Plus they weren't even the ship. What the hell does his subconscious mean by ship? Izuku doesn't know. Izuku's a little stressed ok? He's allowed to have bouts of hysteria.

Suddenly Izuku is free. Oh, sweet freedom how he's missed you. Izuku quickly ran to the other side of the station. He sat down and turned to where Katsuki was sleeping. For the next few hours, he watched in paranoia. This continued on until sleep decided to grace Izuku with its unwanted presence.

AaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaA

Sorry for the late update my pretties. Unfortunately schools been kicking my ass and I dont really have a lot of free time. Ill try to update at least once a month


	8. Chapter 8

Ochako has gone through enough shit that she was honestly considering murder. If one was only looking at the surface they might say she's overreacting. After all, it wasn't the other kids' fault that her favorite pink dress was muddy.

Except that if fucking was. She knew the little shits were behind it. Just because they hid behind the matron's back didn't mean that they were gonna be safe from her wraith. In fact, just for that she was gonna make them feel a world of pain times two.

People had often mistaken that Ochako's kindness in her past life meant she had been a pushover. This was, of course, a mistake that they had only briefly realized in the sports festival.

As Ochako sat in her small room, crayons neatly laid out next to her paper, a nock disturbed her from her plans.

"Sakura-san has asked for your presence" an older girl of the orphanage informed her. Ochako felt a stab of pain at the reminder of where she was and how utterly alone she was. She stood up and tried to make herself more presentable. Who knew, maybe she might be adopted today. She snorted softly at the thought before slowly making her trek to the matron's office.

At first, when she had regained she had been overjoyed at the opportunity to help her parents with their money problems earlier on in life then she had previously. There had of course been the confusion and sadness at the loss of her friends, but all of it had been meaningless in the face of her parents' lack of stress lines. Unfortunately, her parents had been unable to afford to take care of her in this life. She supposed she did help her parents financially, Ochako thought with a touch of bitterness.

"You called?" Ochako asked when she entered the room. The matron looked up with a sour look before her face smoothed out into indifference. It took everything Ochako had not to curl her hands into a fist.

The matron had always made Ochako filled with rage. Ochako assumed it was due to a misplaced sort of hate that came from her parent's abandonment. That didn't make the matron any less of a bitch though.

Sakura's face was firm, the lines on her old face deepening with a frown at Ochako's state of dress.

"What happened to your dress girl?" Sakura asked, her eyes filled with barely concealed distaste.

"I thought you would know, after all, I came to you when the issue of my dress was made Sakura-san," Ochako said politely, her smile apologetic. Ochako may not like the old matron but she knew that Sakura had the ability to make her life an absolute hell if she so wished it.

"That was an hour ago. Don't tell me you've been wearing that dirty rag this entire time girl?" Ochako only had one other piece of clothing. A brown dress that was in the wash. As Ochako went to explain this the matron held up her hand.

"Nevermind your excuses are unimportant" Ochako practically seethed.

"I called you up for a reason after all" the matron finished. Her smile daring Ochako to say something she would regret. Ochako took a deep breath before smiling brightly, shoving back the anger that threatened to overwhelm her.

"Of course, forgive me for distracting you with something as silly as my state of dress, I could always strip off my clothes entirely so as to not dirty myself further. I was wondering about the appeal of being a nudist after all" Ochako's smile had far too many teeth in it to be completely friendly. Sakura looked as disturbed as she always did when faced with a five-year-old with an extensive vocabulary such as her's. The matron sighed and continued as though she hadn't been interrupted.

"The Iida family has heard of your mental prowess and has offered to adopt you" Ochako stilled. Her mind working furiously in an attempt to understand. She suddenly felt a rush of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she wasn't as alone as she had thought.


	9. Chapter 9

So first up I'd like to apologies to anyone how had come to see if there was finally an update. I will not be finishing this story. If you would like to adopt it then please do so. Just don't forget to site it and all that. Have a good day and I'm sorry.


End file.
